The President's Wife - Kathy Myme Page 0,21

behind her. I barely notice, my eyes are locked on hers. She is an attractive woman, and that is an understatement.

“So glad you could join us,” I say with a smile and a kiss on her cheek. The one facing the cameras, obviously. I need to use this opportunity the best I can. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy about the change of plan in the slightest, but it’s too late to stop it.

She then takes her place next to me, her hand positioned so everyone can see the ring. At least someone has had the common sense to tell her to do that much.

“The President and Ms Waters will now take questions,” an aide says.

I’m a little annoyed they couldn’t have waited longer, but the sooner this is over the better.

The moment the aide finishes, it is chaos. Everyone in the room starts shouting directly at me, or rather us, as though the loudest will be the only one answered.

I feel Veronica move back slightly, no doubt in surprise or even fear. I place a hand on her lower back, and hold her in place.

“One at a time, please,” I say into the microphone. “Let’s have some quiet.”

The reporters quieten down a little.

I cover the microphone with one hand, and shout. “Quiet.”

It is quiet again. “Mr Trent,” I say, pointing to one of the usual White House correspondents who is sitting in the front row. “You first.”

“Mr President,” he asks. “Can you tell us the exact nature of your relationship between the two of you? Are you married?”

I smile, though it feels fake enough that everyone should be able to tell. “Last June, I proposed to Ms Waters- ah, Veronica. And she very kindly said yes.”

A flurry of hands shoot up, but I continue. “I’m not going to give you the exact details of the proposal. I’d like to keep that moment just for the two of us, thank you.”

The real reason I don’t want to say more is because I can barely remember last June. The entire campaign was one long blur, and the last thing I need is to mess up and give a time and location which doesn’t match up. No doubt the media will be all over my statement anyway, and they might figure out which times I hadn’t been in front of cameras. I’ll let them answer their own question and never deny their suggestions.

“Mrs White next,” I say.

“Mr President, can you comment on Miss Water’s position here in the White House? Is she currently employed as an intern?”

I’d seen this question coming, luckily. I’m not about to get caught out looking like I’d given my fiancée special treatment.

I feel Veronica shift next to me again, so I reach for her hand and give it a light squeeze. I can’t afford for her to lose track and let things get out of control.

“I had Veronica added to the list of interns to allow her access to the White House without raising suspicions. She has not been hired, and is not and has never been paid to work in the White House. We simply wanted to maintain a level of privacy in our relationship... which I now see was unattainable.”

I look around the room. People are nodding, and I think they might be buying it. A few still seem skeptical and I imagine there will be a few conspiracy theories created this morning, but none which will hold any traction.

“Ms Potter, last question,” I say.

“Hii! Stephanie from ClickBoom News. I have a question for Miss Waters,” the reporter says. “Could you tell us a bit about how your relationship with the President began?”

This is definitely not supposed to happen. Veronica isn’t even meant to be here, let alone being questioned by the press. I can’t let this happen. I need to end things now.

But before I can, Veronica starts speaking.

“David and I met when I was in my last year at college,” she says, surprisingly calmly. “We were both volunteering and had known each other for a few months there when he asked me out.”

I pause a moment. Her answer isn’t terrible, much to my surprise. Maybe this might actually work. Maybe this terribly thought out, spur of the moment, desperate attempt at a plan... might actually work.

“I see,” Stephanie the reporter says, smiling in a way that’s so sweet it almost seems sickly. “That’s very cute. What college did you go to, Veronica?”

Veronica glances at me as if to ask for help. “I…”

“Where